


Meet the Spellmans

by Cinaed



Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [34]
Category: Red vs. Blue, Sabrina the Teenage Witch (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Sabrina the Teenage Witch Fusion, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Developing Relationship, First Meetings, Gen, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:02:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22671469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinaed/pseuds/Cinaed
Summary: In this long-awaited crossover event, Carolina and Church meet the other teen witch of Westbridge.
Series: The Best of Carolina The Teenage Witch [34]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1183436
Comments: 22
Kudos: 53





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, Aryashi and I have been thinking about this particular episode since _October 2018._ In fact, Salem is the whole reason this AU even began, on the simple premise that he and Grif are a lot alike. It only took us over a year and 245,000 words to get here, but I am so excited for it! I hope you guys enjoy Meet the Spellmans as much as I did writing it. 
> 
> I'm breaking this up into two chapters because it clocked in around 13,000 words, haha. 
> 
> Thanks as always to Aryashi for helping me temper my enthusiasm into a good episode. Only three more for season three after this!

Sabrina wakes up to a paw tapping at her cheek. She groans. “Salem, it better not be earlier than eight o’clock,” she warns without opening her eyes. “It’s a Sunday. Sunday is for sleeping in.”

“But I’m hungry and Zelda and Hilda are too busy arguing to feed me,” Salem says pitifully. “Please, Sabriny, you’re my only hope.”

Sabrina sighs and sits up. Salem is perched on her favorite and fluffiest pillow; he blinks slowly as he watches her. The door to her bedroom is ajar, and now that Salem’s mentioned it, she can hear raised voices, though she can’t make out any of the words.

Rubbing at her eyes, she asks, “What are they arguing about?”

Salem’s whiskers give a dismissive twitch. “Who knows, who cares. Something about Hilda inviting a witch family over for lunch without asking Zelda.” He jumps down onto the floor, his claws clacking against the wood as he heads towards the door. “And speaking of lunch, did I mention I’m starving? I’m in the mood for waffles.”

“A witch family?” Sabrina repeats. “Who?”

Salem stops at the door. He stares. Sabrina stares back. “Okay, let’s restart this conversation. Good morning, Sabrina. Let’s go have breakfast. I’m thinking bacon.”

Sabrina gets out of bed, shivering a little as her bare feet meet the cold floor. “Never mind, I’ll go ask Aunt Hilda and Zelda.”

“No!” Salem whines.He rises up on his hind legs, waving his paws at Sabrina like he can stop her from walking around him and going downstairs. His claws snag on Sabrina’s pajama pants, pulling at threads.

Sabrina yelps. “Salem, I like these pants!”

“Boohoo, you can magic yourself a new pair. But I’m going to starve!”

So far this has been a great start to the morning. Sabrina points her finger and magics up a bowl on the other side of the room. As Salem disentangles himself from her pants, she says, “Enjoy breakfast!”

She’s almost to the stairs when Salem yells, “Cat food? I hate this family!”

Zelda and Hilda’s voices reach Sabrina now.

There’s an edge to Zelda’s voice as she says, “Hilda, I simply wished you’d _asked_ before inviting Leonard Church and his children here for lunch. You know--”

“Hey, I didn’t do the inviting. That was all Vanessa’s idea. I just thought it’d be funny.” Sabrina can’t see her aunts’ faces, but she can hear the grin in Hilda’s voice when she adds, “And hey, maybe Carolina and James aren’t huge jerks like their dad.”

Sabrina frowns. Carolina Church. The name rings a bell. Why does that name ring a bell?

A second later, it clicks. She almost trips the rest of the way down the stairs.

Both of her aunts jump as Sabrina crashes into the kitchen.

“The star of the track team is a _witch_?”

* * *

“I don’t get it,” Sabrina says for the third time. “There were _two other witches_ at Westbridge High and you guys never thought to, I don’t know, _mention it_? And now we’re going to have lunch with them?”

Zelda sighs. She exchanges a look with Hilda, who shrugs and says, “Honestly, you get in enough trouble on your own. We didn’t want to see what would happen with three teen witches hanging out.”

“Hey,” Sabrina says, looking offended. “I haven’t gotten yelled at by the Council in weeks.”

Zelda reaches out and pats Sabrina’s hand. “And we’re very proud of you, dear. But really, you were already so busy with your mortal friends and learning to be a witch, we didn’t want to add another complication.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a good excuse,” Hilda says brightly. “We’ll go with that one.”

Salem looks up from his waffles. He licks syrup off his nose. “So we’re not talking about how Zelda hates that stick-in-the-mud Church and the beautiful Doctor Grey?”

“Salem,” Zelda hisses, but Sabrina perks up, clearly sensing gossip. “Hate isn’t the right word. We just have some differences--”

“Nerdy science feud,” Hilda explains. She grins. After hundreds of years living with her sister, Zelda recognizes the gleam in her eyes. “But what I wanna know is if that Church guy-- Ow! Zelda!” She stops as Zelda kicks her under the table.

Sabrina squints at them both. “Okay, but even if Aunt Zelda doesn’t like their dad, why wouldn’t you guys tell me about two half-mortals?”

Zelda and Hilda exchange a look. Hilda says, “Well, technically only one of them is half-mortal.”

“What?” Sabrina says. Then her expression changes as she clearly does the math. “Oh. _Oh_. I thought the whole, uh…two different moms thing...was just a rumor going around school.”

Zelda frowns. “I still don’t believe it myself.”

Hilda snorts. “Why? Because you’re as big of a stick-in-the-mud as he is?”

Salem swallows a bite of his waffle with difficulty and adds, “Yeah, when do we get another chance to watch a soap opera play out in real life? This is going to be great!”

Sabrina looks between Hilda and Salem for a moment. Then she looks at Zelda. “Aunt Zelda, do they have to be here for lunch? They’re going to make it weird.”

“Hey!”

* * *

“So let me get this straight,” Carolina says. Church is pretty entertained by her expression, which keeps shifting between annoyed, excited, and disbelieving. “There’s another witch. At our school. And no one told us about her?”

Grey giggles. “Zelda and I haven’t spoken since the Academy of Science conference in 1806, and I plan on making it an even two hundred years before I say a single word to her!” There’s a slightly dangerous glint to her eyes.

Carolina and Church give each other a look and both decide not to ask.

Kimball just looks amused.

Leonard says, “I would have preferred another option, but you do need to meet with your peers.”

Church would be amused by how little Leonard is looking forward to meeting the Spellmans, except that he’s been roped into this too. He slouches in his seat as Carolina frowns.

“Right. Okay.” Carolina considers this. “Are we sure that this Sabrina goes to our school, though? Her name doesn’t sound familiar.”

“You must’ve missed the two weeks Tucker had a crush last year,” Church says with a snort. “She definitely goes to our school.” When Carolina looks slightly disbelieving, he adds, “Check the yearbook.”

“Oh, right,” Carolina says. She starts to stand, then stops, her expression doing that thing where she has to remind herself to use magic. Then she points a finger towards the ceiling.

Nothing happens.

Her annoyed expression returns full-force. She mutters, “Right. Incantations only. Uh. I need the yearbook to remember Sabrina’s face, so bring the yearbook down to...this place….” Her finger sparks blue, and the yearbook appears in her hands.

Church snickers. “Wow. You’re such a poet.”

Carolina makes a face. “Let’s see what you do when Mr. Doyle makes _you_ do only incantations.”

Church’s brief good humor goes. He’s not looking forward to that annoying week. He looks at Grey and Kimball while Carolina starts flipping through the yearbook. “Yeah, I have a question. Do I have to go?”

“Yes,” Grey says immediately, followed up by Leonard’s dry, “Hilda was...very insistent that you attend the lunch as well.”

Church narrows his eyes. “Why does she care?”

“I cannot begin to fathom that woman’s mind,” Leonard says.

“What’s Sabrina’s last name?” Carolina asks, still looking through the yearbook.

“Spellman,” Kimball says.

Carolina stops. Her eyebrows shoot up. “Seriously? That’s a little...” She trails off, clearly searching for the right word.

“On the nose?” Church suggests with a grin.

"Yeah." Carolina goes back to searching through the yearbook. Then she stops again. “That’s Sabrina Spellman?”

Church leans over. Sabrina’s wearing that slightly forced smile everyone wears for their yearbook photo. “Yeah, that’s her.”

Carolina frowns. “...I have no idea who this is.”

“Maybe don’t say that to her face,” Church says. He ignores the way she rolls her eyes, and turns back to Grey and Kimball. “Okay, I have a second question. I sort of get why I’m getting dragged along, but why is _he_ coming?”

He jerks a thumb towards the kitchen counter, where Grif has been helping himself to a second breakfast.

“He begged,” Leonard says dryly.

Grif chokes on a piece of bagel. Just as Church is wondering if someone’s going to have to give him CPR, he coughs and says, “Begged? Uh, don’t know what conversation we had, dude, but there was no begging. I just pointed out that it’d be cool to meet another familiar, ask some questions. They don’t exactly give you a 101 class on this sh--”

“Let me rephrase. You requested to come along. Intently.”

Grif eyes Leonard, like he’s debating arguing more, and then just takes another bite of the bagel.

“The Spellmans have a familiar living with them?” Carolina asks, looking curious.

“Yeah. Dude tried to take over the Mortal Realm like..forty, fifty years ago?”

“Thirty,” Leonard says. “And he received the standard punishment.”

“The standard punishment?” Carolina repeats. Her eyes narrow. “...Wait, is taking over the world a thing?”

Grif snickers. “Yeah, every fifty years or so some witch gets it into their head that mortals will be oh so grateful for a benevolent ruler. Somehow it never works out.”

“I met the man once,” Grey says. She looks pensive. “It wasn’t surprising that his plan failed. He had no grasp of strategy and tended to get distracted by his latest paramour.” She taps a finger against her lips. “He did, however, have a lovely singing voice!”

“Great,” Church says without enthusiasm. He’d forgotten about Salem. Another witch to try and pretend to be normal in front of. It’s going to be awesome. “Maybe he’ll serenade us.”

“If he does, I hope he sings ‘Le Veau D'or’ from _Faust_!”

“...Fingers crossed.”

* * *

Sabrina Spellman looks just like her yearbook photograph, down to the slightly awkward smile as she opens the front door and looks out at everyone.

“Um, hi,” Carolina says. She’s trying not to stare, and also not sure what to say. It’s her first time meeting another witch her age besides the kids at the witch boot camp, and even then she’d been pretending to be Church. Plus, Sabrina is a half-mortal too. Does she hate the mortal-witch relationship rules too, or--

“Hi!” Sabrina says. The awkwardness lingers, but her smile is genuine as she says, “This is kind of crazy, right?”

“Yeah,” Carolina agrees. When Church coughs pointedly, she realizes that she and Sabrina are blocking the doorway.

Sabrina must realize the same thing, because she laughs. “Right. Um, come on in, everyone.” She steps aside.

Sabrina’s aunts practically pounce on Carolina and Church. Carolina finds herself on the receiving end of a very enthusiastic handshake as one of the aunts smiles at her and says, “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Uh,” Church says, looking vaguely alarmed as the other aunt shakes his hand and studies his face.

“You do take after your father,” the woman says. Zelda, Carolina guesses, from the way the corner of her mouth twitches and the black cat perched on the back of the couch snorts.

“Uh,” Church repeats. He shrugs. “I guess.”

Then everyone jumps as a pained howl fills the room.

“Watch the tail!” Grif yelps, scrambling away from Carolina’s dad.

Carolina was distracted by Sabrina, but now she sees that her dad has halted in the doorway, blinking his blind eyes down at the ground and paused in the middle of taking a step.

Grif starts to jump onto the couch and then spots the other familiar. He skids and almost goes face-first into the couch instead. “Uh. Hi.”

The other familiar just stares back.

Meanwhile, all three Spellmans are doing a bad job of pretending they’re not staring at Carolina’s dad’s eyes. The one that Carolina thought was Zelda recovers from her surprise first, though there’s a decided lack of warmth in her voice as she says, “Hello, Leonard. I--”

“What happened to your eyes?” the other aunt demands, and then winces as her sister steps on her foot. “What? We were all wondering!”

Carolina’s dad slowly lowers his foot. Then he takes an equally slow step into the living room. “Hello, Zelda. I would think it obvious. I can’t see Carolina until she receives her license.” There's the smallest emphasis on the word 'see' and a weird note to his voice, like he's disappointed in Zelda for not figuring out the loophole.

One of the aunts looks confused. “Why would you need-- Ow! Zelda!” Hilda hops a little as Zelda steps on her foot again. “Jeez Louise, fine.”

“So, uh,” Grif says, licking the tip of his nose. “How’s it going?”

The other familiar speaks, his voice surprisingly deep. “You’re Dexter Grif.”

Sabrina glances curiously between the two familiars. “I didn’t know you had a familiar.”

Church snorts. “We don’t. He tagged along.”

Hilda and Zelda look down. Carolina’s beginning to feel like most of this lunch is going to involve a lot of confused or awkward staring, because both aunts gape at Grif.

“Uh, yeah. That’s me,” Grif says, sounding confused. “Do I know you? Is there a familiar newsletter I should be getting?”

The other familiar laughs a little too hard. “That’s funny. Listen, we should talk later--”

“You know Dexter Grif?” Zelda says, turning her surprised gaze on Carolina’s dad.

He raises an eyebrow. Carolina’s a little surprised by how smoothly he lies when he explains, “I introduced myself to Dexter to thank him for protecting Westbridge and the witches within the city.”

“He did what now?” Sabrina says.

Grif looks up. “Yeah, I did what?”

Carolina’s dad clears his throat meaningfully. “I was referring of course to when Dexter--”

Hilda and Zelda exchange a look. “Oh boy, would you look at the time!” Hilda says with forced brightness. “I think it’s time for some cheese and crackers.” Green sparkles fill the air, coalescing on the coffee table. When the sparkles fade, they’re replaced by platters of cheese and crackers.

“Yeah, let’s play Twenty Questions sitting down,” Church mumbles, sitting down on the love-seat and grabbing one of the platters.

The other familiar jumps down, landing next to Grif. In a voice that probably isn’t supposed to carry, he suggests, “We could steal a plate of food and go talk familiar to familiar, man to man, cat to cat. What do you say?”

“Uh,” Grif says. “Sure.”

Church looks like he wishes he could join them as both familiars grab a platter handle in their mouths and awkwardly navigate an entire plate towards the kitchen.

The expression only intensifies as Zelda smiles at him and asks, “So, how is Hilary?”

* * *

Grif isn’t sure what he’s expecting from Saberhagen. This is a guy who tried and failed to take over the world. The smarm is a little much.

He remembers dragging Kai out of one of Saberhagen’s meetings, but now he’s thinking he shouldn’t have bothered. She’d have chewed this guy up and spit him out. Then again, she might’ve just done a coup and gotten herself a hundred years as a familiar, so it was probably the right decision.

Grif chews on a piece of cheddar, pretending to be fascinated as the other familiar introduces himself.

“I’m Salem. Salem Saberhagen. You may have heard of me.”

“Sure. Tried to take over the world.”

Salem sighs. “And what a world it would’ve been.”

Before Grif can decide if he should pretend to be impressed, Salem meets his eyes. It’s not a challenge, it’s clearly just Salem trying to focus on him, but Grif’s stupid cat instincts take offense. His fur bristles and his ears go back, and it’s all he can do not to growl. He gets himself under control in a few seconds, but his tail twitches with embarrassment.

“Still got the newbie jitters, huh?”

“Is that what you call it?” Grif resists the urge to lick his paw or his leg. His fur isn’t bristling anymore, but it still feels prickly. He licks the tip of his nose instead. “Yeah.”

“I’d love to say that goes away, but it just sort of...changes after a few decades.” Salem gives him a feline grin. “Though, hey, you don’t have to worry about that. What’d you get again, ten, fifteen years? Easy peasy.”

“If you say so,” Grif mutters darkly. Then what Salem actually says registers. “So, what, I’m just stuck with a dumb cat brain this whole time?”

“Pretty much,” Salem agrees.

“Ugh.” If Grif was embarrassed before, now he’s frustrated. Eight more years of fighting his cat instincts feels like forever. He takes another slice of cheddar, tearing into it. Destroying the cheese doesn’t make him feel any better.

Salem just watches him for a second. “But hey, it has its upsides.”

“Really,” Grif says, eyeing him skeptically.

“Yeah. The eighteen-hour naps are great.”

Grif snorts. “Okay, yeah. Those aren’t bad.”

“And no one expects you to work! I mean, that’s mostly because you don’t have opposable thumbs anymore, but hey. And the nine lives thing ain’t too bad either. How many have you gone through?”

“Uh, just the one,” Grif says, a little thrown off by the question. “The first guy they assigned to me blew us both up.”

“Ouch.” Salem gives a theatrical wince. “Sorry if you liked him.”

Grif snorts. “Don’t worry, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, sometimes you get lucky with your guardian, sometimes you don’t. I could tell you some horror stories.” Salem pauses. “So Leonard isn’t your guardian, and neither is the lovely Doctor Grey, right?”

“Uh.” Grif hadn’t really thought about how he would explain Simmons to another familiar. Other than, you know, not saying Simmons is a mortal. “You wouldn’t know the guy, but he’s, uh, fine. He lets me eat normal food. You know. Whatever. _Way_ better than Hammer.”

“Uh huh,” Salem says.

Grif squints, confused by the amusement in his voice. “What?”

“Nothing,” Salem says. “Just glad to hear your guardian doesn’t suck.”

“Yeah, he’s fine.” Though now that Grif’s thinking about it, Simmons is probably dying from curiosity. Grif tries to remember some of the questions Simmons had thrown at him before breakfast. “So, uh, I was half-joking about the newsletter, but seriously, do familiars talk to each other a lot or what?”

“There are some chatrooms,” Salem says. “I’ll hook you up, but we’re all mostly trying to figure out a way to turn ourselves back early. Or make a _connection_ , if you know what I mean.”

Are all familiars’ faces this expressive? Grif wonders if everyone else gets weirded out by his face. He’s definitely weirded out by the way Salem leers. He focuses on the first part, the way less awkward sentence. “Uh. Has anyone ever actually done it? Turned themselves back to a witch early?”

He knows better than to hope, but his stupid heart still sinks when Salem sighs and says, “Nah. There was a guy going on about true love’s kiss in chat the other month, and there’s always someone claiming they figured out a spell strong enough to break the Council’s curse. It’s all hooey.”

“Right. Yeah, I figured.”

Grif must look more disappointed than he realizes, because Salem blinks at him and lays a paw on his shoulder. Grif’s instincts make him bristle, Salem too close, the smell of another cat assaulting his nose.

Salem hastily removes the paw. With a hearty, awkward laugh, he says, “Don’t worry, pal. Maybe the Council will let you off on good behavior! Or, hey, if you want to take your mind off things, have you ever had catnip before? Now _that’s_ a perk of being a cat.”

“Yeah, hard pass,” Grif says. He doesn’t remember much of the one time he tried catnip at Simmons’, but he’s pretty sure he embarrassed himself somehow.

“Your loss.”

* * *

Carolina wonders if it’s possible to die of awkwardness. She has no idea what to say, because all the questions she wants to ask feel too intense over cheese and crackers. Also there’s the extra complication of her dad and Sabrina’s aunts being within earshot.

“So,” she says, breaking a cracker apart between her fingers.

It doesn’t help that Sabrina looks equally clueless. “So,” she echoes. Her gaze darts between Carolina and Church. Then she drops her voice and says in a rushed whisper, “How mad were you when you found out? I mean, we’ve been at Westbridge together this whole time!” She pauses. “Also, how did none of us figure it out on our own?”

Church snorts. “How? We can’t talk about magic and we’re in totally separate classes. The only reason I know who you are is because Caboose and Harvey are friends.”

“Don’t use logic on me,” Sabrina protests. “I’m still mad!”

Carolina shrugs. “I can’t tell if keeping secrets is a witch thing or a grown-up thing.”

Sabrina makes a face like she can’t decide if she wants to laugh or get madder. “Probably both? But I mean, witches have to keep a lot of secrets.”

Carolina leans forward. This is one of the things she wanted to talk about. She glances towards her dad, but he’s talking to Zelda and Hilda. “Yeah, exactly. I hate lying to my friends.”

“I know!” Sabrina says. “I feel so bad when I have to use a memory spell on them.”

Church coughs out cracker crumbs as Carolina stares. “When you what?”

Sabrina looks surprised by their surprise. “Have you guys not had to do that?”

Carolina’s about to say no. Then she remembers Wash. She feels a pang of guilt. “Once,” she admits.

Sabrina looks impressed. “Wow, I don’t know how you guys keep from doing it. I mean, it’s better than the Council getting involved, but it still feels bad, you know?”

“Yeah,” Church says when Carolina doesn’t respond.

There’s another stretch of silence. Sabrina’s smile fades, and then returns a little too forcefully. “So you’re a half-witch too, right? What’s the craziest thing that’s happened to you since you found out you were a witch?”

Carolina very carefully doesn’t think of accidentally helping Felix and Locus escape prison.

Whatever expression is on her face, though, has Sabrina wincing and saying, “Sorry, stupid question. I thought it would be funny. I mean, my second day as a witch I turned someone into a pineapple.”

“A pineapple?” Church repeats blankly.

“I was, uh, still working on the apples to orange spell. And she got better!” Sabrina assures them, and then adds in a mutter, “Besides, Libby deserved it.”

Church snorts. “Libby? Yeah, she probably did.”

Sabrina looks slightly cheered by Church’s acknowledgement. Then she straightens in her seat. “Oh! I was wondering. Do you guys have separate quizmasters or share one?”

“Share one,” Carolina says. She sighs. “Mr. Doyle is making me do incantations only right now.”

Sabrina gives her a sympathetic look. “Yeah, mine made me do that a few weeks ago. Remember, uh, that freak blizzard in school?”

Carolina and Church stare. “...That was you?”

“Yeah,” Sabrina says. “...Okay, does anyone else want to admit to an embarrassing spell?”

Carolina hesitates. Sabrina has been trying to carry this entire conversation, though. She says, “I put a keep away spell on one of my friends so she wouldn’t get into a fight and then forgot to take it off for a couple days.”

“What?” Church blinks at her. “When did that happen?”

“Girls’ night.”

Sabrina grins. “Girls' night? Sounds fun. Are they all on the track team?”

“No,” Carolina says. She hesitates a second. She’ll ask Sabrina about being a half-witch later, when they get some privacy. “Niner’s on the soccer team, Connie plays tennis, and Sheila, she’s new, she doesn’t play any sports. She’s in the Robotics Club. Wash, he’s on the track team, but he wasn’t invited to girls’ night, obviously.”

“Obviously,” Sabrina says. “Speaking of track, do you think you guys are going to State this year?”

“Definitely,” Carolina says firmly. She ignores the smirk on Church’s face as she asks, “Do you play any sports?”

Sabrina shakes her head. “No, but I’m on the Westbridge Lantern.” Carolina’s incomprehension must show on her face because Sabrina blinks at her. In a tone that suggests that she’s had this conversation before, she adds, “The school newspaper? It comes out every week?”

“Oh, right. I think Connie works on it,” Carolina says.

“Carolina is a jock,” Church interjects. “She doesn’t read.” He grins.

Carolina tries to elbow him, but he dodges, snickering.

He’s still laughing to himself when a voice asks, “So are we eating lunch or what?”

Carolina looks over to find that Grif and the other familiar are back.

Carolina’s dad tilts his head in the direction of the two familiars. “Ah, Salem Saberhagen. Of the Witch Water Scandal, wasn’t it?”

“In the fur,” Salem says.

“An inventive attempt at overthrowing the Council, if a somewhat unfortunate taste in allies.”

“Hey!” Hilda protests. She glares.

“...I refer, of course, to whoever told the Council of his plans and no one in this room.”

Hilda’s expression doesn’t soften very much. She slaps Carolina’s dad on the back, making him jump, and says, “Course you did, buddy. Course you did.”

“Lunch?” Salem repeats plaintively. “I’m so hungry.”

Zelda gives him a look. “Salem, you and Dexter just ate an entire platter of cheese and crackers _and_ you had an enormous breakfast. Stop acting like we’re starving you.”

Salem blinks at her. He says with injured dignity, “I’ve told you before, familiars burn through calories faster than witches. We need to eat more.”

“Oh, that’s a good one,” Grif says, amused. “I’m stealing that.”

* * *

There’s something weird about James Church, Sabrina decides.

Not that his sister isn’t weird, because she is, or at least she’s really judgy. But James has been tense this whole time, only loosening up when he’s teasing Carolina, and then immediately going back to being twitchy and uncomfortable.

And he definitely doesn’t like people asking him perfectly normal questions.

“So, what was it like growing up on Europa?” Hilda asks.

James gives her a long stare. “Boring.”

Hilda waits, but when he doesn’t say anything else, she shrugs. “Fair enough! No offense to your mom, but I can’t imagine living on a moon.” She tilts her head to the side. “Now if you’d lived on Mars? Totally different story. Mars could be fun.”

“Oh yeah,” Sabrina says. “Have you guys gone there on vacation yet?”

“Not yet,” Carolina says. “We went to Europa once, though. Doctor Huggins is nice.”

Sabrina recognizes the look on her aunt’s face.She’s going to ask about Carolina’s blase attitude about the woman who hooked up with her dad and ruin lunch in five, four, three, two....

Sabrina interjects hastily. “Well, you should. The slopes are amazing.”

Like she was hoping, Hilda gets distracted. “And the guys in those cute ski outfits aren’t half bad either!” She turns towards Dexter Grif, who’s been eating and pretty quiet himself. “Speaking of cute guys, is Locus as hot in person as he is on TV?”

Dexter stares with his mismatched eyes. “Uh, what?”

“Who’s Locus?” Sabrina asks.

“Killed a Council member and his son,” Salem says. “Tried to destroy--”

Zelda shoots Salem a look. He blinks back.

Sabrina narrows her eyes, wondering what she’s missing as Zelda says, “Hilda, I will never understand your taste in men.”

Hilda looks tempted to stick out her tongue. “Big talk from a woman who thinks Willard Kraft is a catch.”

“ _What_?” comes from James and Carolina. They both stare, their gazes turning towards Sabrina as though to check with her that they haven’t misheard.

Sabrina makes a face. “I thought we agreed we wouldn’t talk about Mr. Kraft while we’re eating. You’re going to ruin everyone’s appetite.”

Carolina turns her baffled stare on Zelda. Her voice is incredulous. “You like Mr. Kraft? Is there another Mr. Kraft? He’s--” She catches herself, her eyes darting towards her dad, and concludes weakly, “...Not a nice...man….”

“Locus,” Salem says. There’s a tinge of awe in his voice, but he’s also watching Dexter closely. “Now that's a guy who thought _big_. Taking over the mortal realm is small potatoes compared to trying to overthrow the Council!”

Dexter snorts. “Yeah, that worked out great for him.” The words drip with sarcasm.

Salem’s still watching him. Sabrina knows the beginnings of some Salem scheme. She really hopes he doesn’t do anything stupid. He says breezily, “Oh, sure, he got caught and now he’s been exiled who knows where, but still. Talk about ambition!”

“My vote’s still for The Republic of Infinite Horror,” Hilda says.

Dexter’s feline expression gets complicated. He doesn’t say anything.

“What are you guys talking about?” Sabrina demands.

“The Lozano Affair,” Carolina’s dad says, in a tone like it should be obvious. “Didn’t your aunts--”

“No, we didn’t, because it didn’t affect her,” Zelda says. If looks could kill, Doctor Church would be a pile of ash. Yeah, she’s definitely hiding something too. She turns towards Sabrina. “A few witches attempted a coup and killed a Council member and his son a few years ago.”

Sabrina stares. “Wait, kill as in die? Not turned into an animal or a rock, or made to sleep for a thousand years, or anything?”

“Dead as a doornail,” Hilda says, without a drop of sympathy in her voice. Apparently the dead guy was just as disliked as most of the Council. “Drell told me himself.”

“Does that happen often, like Salem’s whole taking over the world thing, or--”

“No,” pretty much all the adults say at once.

“Excuse me, but it sounds like you’re implying my attempt to rule the world was passe,” Salem says with a sniff. “It may not be Locus and Felix levels of ambition, but it got me a hundred years as a familiar, so _clearly_ the Council considers me a threat.”

Carolina’s been weirdly quiet for this conversation. Now she frowns. “I thought that was the standard punishment.”

Sabrina almost laughs at Salem’s offended look. She leans over and scratches him behind the ears. For a second he’s tense under her hand and then he leans into it. “Don’t worry, Salem, I’m sure your plan for world domination was great.”

“Thank you,” Salem says. “At least _someone_ appreciates me.”

“...I'm full,” Dexter says. When Sabrina looks at him, he’s looking at Salem and has another weird expression on his face. “Gonna take a nap. Wake me when dessert's ready." He jumps down from the table.

“Hey, wait!” Salem jumps down after him. “Wait for me!”

Sabrina watches the two familiars leave.

There’s a beat of silence. Then Carolina asks, “You know Drell?”

“Oh, he and I have been dating off and on for a good four hundred years.” Hilda sighs. “What can I say, we just can’t resist each other.”

“See, this is why I can’t trust you guys when you throw witch guys at me,” Sabrina complains. “You think Drell is good boyfriend material.”

“Oh, Sabrina, just because one witch boy turned out to be a jerk doesn’t mean you should let him ruin all witches for you,” Zelda says. She turns to Carolina’s dad and explains, “We’ve been encouraging Sabrina to find a nice witch boy to date.”

Doctor Church’s expression goes blank. “Date,” he repeats, like it’s a foreign and extremely unpleasant concept.

James snickers. “Don’t worry, Carolina is too busy for a boyfriend.” He immediately looks like he regrets his words as everyone’s attention turns to him, his sister looking annoyed.

“Really?” Sabrina asks. “My dad lived in the spellbook directory for six months and he came out of it with a girlfriend.”

Carolina flushes. “Spellwork, homework, and track is enough for me.”

Sabrina feels a pang of sympathy. “Yeah. I was dating Harvey, but between magic, homework, and the newspaper, I didn’t have enough time to be a good girlfriend. Which is kind of funny, because you know, we can stop time.”

“I don’t know what you guys have against Drell,” Hilda complains.

Zelda raises an eyebrow. “Besides that he’s an egotistical tyrant who has stood you up at least a hundred times in the course of your relationship?”

“...Were you talking about Drell or Kraft?”

Carolina turns and whispers to Sabrina, “Your aunts are...uh….”

“Weird?” Sabrina laughs. “Tell me about it. Sometimes I think they're more worried about dating than I am.”

Carolina smiles. Humor suddenly lights up her face. “I think my dad’s worried that I’ll _start_ dating.”

Sabrina glances at the adults, but her aunts are busy arguing. Carolina’s dad wears wooden expression, like he really isn’t happy about the idea of Carolina having a boyfriend. Sabrina laughs. “You can tell the truth. I won’t tell your dad. You really aren’t dating anyone? I thought I heard something about you and that cute basketball player. What’s his name, York--”

She stops with a yelp as James knocks over his glass. Soda splashes everywhere.

“Whoops,” he says, his smile a little too wide.

“Church,” Carolina says, grabbing a napkin and starting to mop at the spill. She shoots her brother an annoyed look, and then a confused one at Sabrina. “Me and York? Where did you get--”

James interrupts, still wearing that weird smile. “Who knows? Rumors are weird like that! Hey, you should do an incantation and clean this mess up, Carolina. I bet Doyle would give you a gold star.”

Sabrina gets distracted.

“My quizmaster never gives _me_ gold stars….”

* * *

Grif jumps onto the couch and curls himself into a tight ball, curling his tail under him before it can twitch too obviously. He doesn’t look over as Salem jumps onto the couch too.

It’s not like he expected Salem to have a way for him to be human again. That’s stupid. If one familiar figured out a loophole, they’d blab it to everyone. But he wasn’t expecting to be so weirded out by seeing another familiar, especially watching Salem turn into a mushy puddle of goo when Sabrina scratched him behind the ears.

He really hopes he doesn’t look that ridiculous when he’s hanging out with Simmons. It’s annoying whenever his cat brain gets the better of him, but the idea of looking like Simmons’ pet and not a person, especially to another witch, makes him actively want to growl and take a page out of Locus’ book and do something mean to the Council.

Not that he’s actually that stupid. Ten years as a cat is more than enough of a punishment for being a good Samaritan.

Grif blinks as Salem leans over and gives him a light headbutt. Grif’s confusion at the gesture wars with his cat brain’s acceptance of the unspoken apology. The mixed emotions make him feel weird, the same weirdness he’s been feeling since he saw Salem. He still gives Salem a headbutt in return as a silent thank you.

It’s definitely time for a distraction. “That catnip offer still on the table?” he asks.

Salem brightens. “You know it!”


	2. Chapter Two

“So do you have plans for Thanksgiving break?” Sabrina asks. “We might go to this spa resort in the Other Realm, since my friends are all busy.”

Carolina shakes her head. “No. I mean, I don’t think so.” She hesitates and glances towards her dad. He doesn’t seem to have heard the question. “I haven’t really thought about it. But it wouldn’t feel right, doing Thanksgiving without--” Her throat tightens, but if anyone would understand, it would be Sabrina. “--without my mom. It’s one of her favorite holidays.”

A wistful look flickers across Sabrina’s face. “Yeah. Even before the divorce, my mom and I used to visit her cousins while my dad...did whatever most witches do on Thanksgiving.”

Carolina frowns. She glances at Church, but he’s got his head down, focused on his third helping of mashed potatoes, doing the thing he’s been doing all lunch: dodging questions and trying to be invisible. “He didn’t come with you?”

She doesn’t think it’s a weird question until Sabrina laughs. “Nobody gave you the speech about how the Pilgrims are the worst?”

“Uh,” Carolina says. She thinks Grey or Kimball might’ve mentioned something about Thanksgiving not being a witch holiday, but that’s about it. “Not really? And my dad always ate Thanksgiving dinner with us--”

“He did _what_?” Hilda and Zelda yelp together. They both look scandalized.

Hilda turns to Carolina’s dad. “Carolina’s kidding, right? You didn’t celebrate _Thanksgiving_.” There’s a twist to her lips as she says the last word, like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

When he raises an eyebrow, Zelda looks even more scandalized. “The pilgrims--”

Carolina knows this new look on her dad’s face. He’s annoyed and doesn’t want to show it. His lips go thin. Even blind, he somehow gives the entire table a level look. His voice comes out dangerously even.

“I lived for hundreds of years before the pilgrims existed and will, with care, live hundreds more. I see no reason why I should let them dictate my choices and keep me from celebrating a family holiday with my wife and daughter.”

Carolina was wrong. The earlier awkwardness is nothing compared to the silence that now falls on the table.

The Spellmans look taken aback. They all exchange a look, and Hilda says slowly, “Well, uh, when you put it that way, I guess it’s...a little silly….”

“And Thanksgiving food is good,” Sabrina jokes, but it falls flat. She glances at Carolina. Her expression clearly reads, _What is your dad’s problem?_

Then Church looks up from his plate and snorts. “Way to kill the mood, Leonard. Bet you’re a hit at parties too.”

Sabrina looks confused. “You call your dad Leonard?”

Church’s expression goes blank. “Uh.” He glances down, clearly thinking hard for an excuse, and then tugs at the sleeve of his shirt, one of those grunge bands he likes so much printed on its front. A second later he looks up, grinning. “You don’t call your parents by their first name? Come on, down with the Man! Down with their stupid rules! Do what you want!” His grin widens. He’s clearly pleased with his lie.

It’s Carolina’s turn to snort. “Yeah, you’re tough,” she says, amused. “You let Caboose hug you for two minutes straight the other day.”

Church flushes. He shoots her a half-accusing look, but she just tilts her head and stares back. He threw her under the bus about dating. She’s _definitely_ teasing him about what a push-over he is about Caboose. “The guy is a state champion wrestler. _You_ try getting out of his hugs,” he mutters.

“Nah,” Carolina says. “You like them.”

Church scowls, but before he can say anything, Zelda says, “Quite an early achiever! It took Leonard almost a thousand years to experience that family quirk.” His expression changes to one of blank incomprehension.

“Huh?”

Carolina’s dad, meanwhile, is wearing a weird look. Carolina can’t read it at all.

Zelda glances between Carolina’s dad and Church. Apparently she does understand his expression, because her eyebrows shoot up. She turns to Church. “Didn't your father tell you? Or Hilary? She learned about that particular family quirk the hard way when she tried to hug him during that award ceremony!”

Church just squints at her.

Carolina’s dad clears his throat. His expression settles into more familiar neutral lines, but there’s a slight edge to his voice. “And I imagine you were so eager to inform Sabrina of your own family's predilections.”

Carolina and Sabrina look at each other. For the first time, they’re in perfect harmony. Why are adult witches so weird?

“So what’s happening right now?” Sabrina asks. “Predilections? Quirks?”

“Let me explain,” Hilda says. “You two nerds will just make it confusing.”

Carolina’s dad raises an eyebrow. “By all means, proceed.”

Hilda grins at Carolina, Sabrina, and Church, who’s still looking confused. “So, every witch family has stuff they pass along. It can be annoying, like an allergy, or dangerous like an addiction, or just plain weird, like-- oh man, Zelda, remember that family where they could only eat food that was green? I think they all gave up for a few centuries and just went vegetarian, at least until mortals made artificial coloring--”

“Hilda,” Zelda says.

Hilda stops. “Right! I don’t know what else will fall out if you shake Leonard’s family tree, but everyone knows about the Church family’s weirdness about hugs.”

Carolina’s dad speaks, and now Carolina recognizes his tone. Extreme reluctance. “My mother called it the hug bug. She was very amused by it.” He tilts his head a little in Carolina’s direction and adds, now sounding almost apologetic, “It’s similar to imprinting. You find yourself with a...strong preference for one person’s hugs.”

Carolina can put two and two together and get four. Amusement half-chokes her as she says, “So when Church lets Caboose hug him all the time--”

“Nope,” Church says, sounding horrified. He shakes his head violently. “No. Stop acting like you’re right, because you’re not. Caboose isn’t my person. That’d be dumb. Just cause he’s strong and can lift you off the ground with his hugs and they should be too tight but--”

“So you do always want to date your hug bug?” Sabrina asks, grinning a little.

Church cuts himself off with a horrified squawk. “I do _not_ want to--”

“It varies,” Carolina’s dad says, one corner of his mouth curling. “It’s generally immediate family or a future spouse, but there are always exceptions.”

“Right!” Church says, jabbing a finger towards Carolina’s dad. “An exception!” Then he realizes what he’s just said. “I mean-- he’s not-- Ugh!” He slouches and then keeps sliding, half-disappearing under the table. He groans loudly.

Carolina leans over and pats his head. “Well, he seems good at them?”

Church groans again. “Carolina, please shut up and leave me to die.”

Sabrina still looks amused but also sympathetic. “At least you guys can eat pancakes,” she says.

“You can’t?” Carolina says.

Sabrina gets a distant look in her eyes. “Nope. One bite and I got hooked. Have you ever eaten five hundred pancakes in one afternoon?”

“...No.”

Zelda looks pained. “Sabrina, dear, that was a family secret.”

“One that made me hungry for dessert,” Hilda says cheerfully. She points and small plates of chocolate cake appear in front of everyone in another flash of green sparkles.

Sabrina looks around. “Wow, Salem didn’t instantly appear for dessert?” Her eyes narrow. “...He's up to something.” She nudges Carolina. “Want to see what he’s doing?”

“Sure,” Carolina says. She looks down at Church’s partially visible head. “Are you coming?”

“No,” comes the muffled answer even as a hand reaches up and gropes for his slice of cake. The plate disappears under the table.

Hilda snorts. “Breaking the Man’s rules about how to eat at the table, huh.”

Church doesn’t respond with actual words, just a wordless grumbling.

Carolina leaves him to his cake and his temper tantrum.

* * *

Grif hasn’t had catnip since Donut brought it over during that stupid thing with Whiskers. He’s forgotten how it makes him feel, both loose and keyed up at the same time, the way all the smells and sensations get a little more intense and his stupid cat brain a little louder.

He wishes he was home. This place smells like Salem and the Spellmans. Salem’s worked his way from being a total jerk to being okay, so the scent of him doesn’t make Grif want to fight. It still makes him itchy, makes him want to rub his scent all over the place and claim some of the room for himself, but that would be rude.

He settles for talking instead. Talking and prowling around the living room, circling the couch again and again as Salem flops on the couch and watches him.

“I miss having hands. No, thumbs. I mean, they’re a part of my hands, but I miss being able to just open a beer or a door, you know? And not having to ask Simmons to do so much crap for me. He's nice so he always does it and he smiles really nice but still! Well, not always, like sometimes he’ll say he’s buying a pizza and then he orders a vegetarian one, which isn’t pizza.”

“ _Vegetarian pizza_?” Salem says, sounding horrified. “I thought you said this guy let you eat normal food!”

“Most of the time. I keep telling him I can eat whatever, witches don’t die of heart attacks, but no, we gotta eat healthy. If I had thumbs I could order my own pizzas, or at least not take like ten tries to dial the Slicery every time.”

“Do you order their meat lovers supreme?”

“Uh, of course. What else would I get? Three cheese?” Grif snorts. “Maybe if the Council turned me into a mouse.”

Salem starts laughing. “Mice familiars! That’s a good one!”

Grif does another loop around the couch. “Better a cat than a mouse, but it still sucks. They could at least let you choose your animal or something. Okay, maybe not, someone would probably get the bright idea of turning into a tiger and try to eat the Council, but could’ve at least let us be monkeys or something and keep our thumbs. Instead I get ten years as a cat, coughing up hairballs and dumping them in the trash before Simmons sees. And sure, you have like eighty more years of this, and that sucks, but you tried to take over the world. I just stopped a dude from turning to stone! What was I supposed to do, just wait a while and then use him for interior decorating?”

“He would’ve made a hot statue,” Salem says, hiccuping again. When Grif blinks at him he adds, “I mean, he-- you definitely did the right thing, pal. And we all figured they'd give you time off for good behavior after you saved Massa-- Mass--” He gives up on the word.

“We?”

Salem waves an expansive paw and almost hits himself in the face. “We! All the people! You stopped Felix from killing everybody! Well, not everybody, but important people. Me. Sabriny. Zelda. Hilda. A bunch of old witches in Boston, I guess. You’re a hero!”

“A hero,” Grif repeats, and laughs. “Funny. You’re funny.”

A new look slowly forms on Salem’s face. He says, equally slowly, interrupted by the occasional hiccup, “Yeah, and you’re famous. With my brains and your popul-- with my smarts and your name, we could get people talking. We could get Madagascar easy peasy, and then--”

“Famous?” Laughter bubbles up in Grif’s chest. “I’m not _famous_. That’s so dumb. How are you so dumb? Did using too much catnip make you dumb? No, catnip is awesome, that can’t be it, maybe you’re just dumb.”

Salem blinks and hiccups. “Uh, you saved Massa--Massachu-- you saved a lot of witches when the Council was sitting around thinking Felix and Locus were on Mars or in the Other Realm! Unless there's some other Dexter Grif walking around on four legs.”

“No,” Grif says, stretching out the word for as long as he can to show how serious he is. “I didn't do anything. That was...that was Simmons. And the kids. And Locus. Locus put Felix in the volcano! I was just...I was just there with my stupid paws.”

Salem squints at him. He looks confused, but also curious. “That’s not the official story.”

Grif stops. He suddenly feels a lot more sober. Crap, he shouldn’t have mentioned the kids or Simmons. He shouldn’t have been running his mouth at all. “Uh…..”

Salem jumps off the couch. Grif backs up as Salem walks towards him, his ears up and that curious look intensifying. Grif fights against his own hackles rising and his cat brain’s complaints while Salem says, tone wheedling, “Come on. There are no secrets over catnip. Familiar law. What really happened?”

“Familiar law’s not a real thing,” Grif mutters.

“Sure it is,” Salem says. He steps too close. A warning growl escapes Grif’s throat, and Salem takes a hasty step back. “Hey, I’m just curious! I smelled gossip!”

Grif decides a retreat of his own is in order. He says quickly, “There's no gossip here. Catnip makes me lie. It's a thing. A totally real thing. And now it's going to make me fall asleep.” He flops down onto the carpet, ignoring Salem’s pleading expression. He throws in a fake yawn for good measure.

“You just said catnip makes you lie! You liar! You aren't going to sleep at all!”

Grif closes his eyes and gives another fake yawn.

Salem sounds a little desperate. “Come on, that's so fake! At least put a little effort into the lie! Or, actually, don’t, because we need to talk about your plans for the future. We could ride your popularity to the top, rule the world. Do you have a continent you want? I’ll let you have your first pick!”

“Sounds like work to me,” Grif says, keeping his eyes shut. Actually, he doesn’t know if he could open his eyes. The buzz from the catnip is fading and he’s getting genuinely tired. Another yawn, this one not faked, escapes him. “Just gonna keep my head down and then when I’m done with this stupid punishment, eat pizza with my hands and get a beer.”

He imagines being able to sit and crack a beer with Simmons, then almost jumps in surprise as Salem suddenly sobs.

“I could rule the mortal realm if I had your fame! Don’t you realize what you’ve got?”

Salem is still complaining through his sobs when Grif falls asleep.

* * *

“ _I could’ve been emperor of Earth_!”

Sabrina closes her bedroom door and Salem’s pathetic wailing gets muffled. She looks amused by Salem’s complaints. “You’d think thirty years having to use a litter-box would kill those dreams, but he’s still got them.”

Carolina very carefully doesn’t think about Grif and litter-boxes. Instead she looks around Sabrina’s room. Sabrina hasn’t been living here that much longer than Carolina has lived at the brownstone, but the room feels like a home. It’s cluttered with knick knacks and other things. Her spellbook is perched precariously on top of some textbooks.

Sabrina sits down on the bed, offering Carolina an apologetic smile. She points her finger and their respective chocolate cake slices appear on top of the spellbook. “Sorry my aunts are being so weird. Maybe it’s a witch thing. The older you get, the weirder you get. Think we’ll be like that when we’re their age?”

Carolina hadn’t asked about ages, but from one or two things Zelda and Hilda said during lunch, she knows they’re at least four hundred years old. The whole nearly immortal thing gives her a headache. She shrugs. “I...I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”

Sabrina makes a face. “Yeah. Sometimes Salem will mention being buddies with people like Patrick Henry and I can’t tell if he’s joking around or not. Kind of cool to imagine living in the future, though. I can't wait for flying cars.”

Carolina smiles briefly at that. “That will be cool.” She hesitates, but they’re alone. She doesn’t have to watch her words. She still plays with her chocolate cake, breaking it into smaller pieces. “Yeah. Sometimes I just wonder what my mom thinks about it. The whole magic and Dad living for so long stuff, I mean.”

Sabrina’s smile fades. “Yeah. Me too.”

“I wonder how my dad told her, if they argued about the mortal-witch rules. Okay, I know they did. My mom would hate those rules.” Carolina laughs, though it catches in her throat. “I bet he had to stop her from going to the Council and calling them idiots. And I know she must argue with my dad about the no charitable magic or helping mortals rules. It’s so stupid!”

Carolina expects ready agreement over that, but Sabrina frowns and taps her fork against the edge of her plate. She’s looking at Carolina a little funny. “I kind of wonder if that’s why….” She shakes her head. “Anyway! I don’t like the witch-mortal rules either. But I guess the no helping mortals thing kind of makes sense? Sometimes helping people just makes things worse.”

“Only if the person doesn’t know what they want, or the witch messes up somehow. How could magicking up food for food pantries and clothing for homeless shelters go wrong? My mom and I could do so much good--” Carolina’s throat tightens. “I just want to talk to her about everything. I know I should talk to my dad about magic, but sometimes it’s...weird. He’s a thousand years old--”

Sabrina’s funny expression vanishes, replaced by shock. “He’s _what_?” She squints at Carolina like she thinks she’s exaggerating. “You mean like five hundred, right?”

“No. He mentioned it a couple weeks ago during dinner.”

Sabrina must still be absorbing how old Carolina’s dad is, because somehow the explanation makes her look even more confused. “Dinner?”

Carolina nods. “His weekly visits, now that he figured out the loophole.” A thought occurs to her. She frowns. “Oh, right. I guess your dad doesn’t know about that. You could suggest it so he can talk to you face to face and not from a painting.”

“Oh, he doesn’t need a loophole. He’s done with his six months in the book.”

Carolina frowns. “Six months? In the book? What are you talking about?”

“What are _you_ talking about?” Sabrina asks, blinking at her.

“Our dads can’t see us until we get our licenses. That’s the loophole. My dad can’t ‘see’ me.”

“No,” Sabrina says slowly, giving her a very weird look. “My dad spent six months living in the spellbook, and now he can visit when he wants.” Her mouth twists a little.

They stare at each other.

“I’m confused. Are you confused?” Sabrina says.

Carolina just nods. She doesn’t trust her voice. Beneath the confusion is a familiar, twisting roil of her stomach, the one that says her dad’s been keeping secrets again. If Sabrina’s dad found a loophole, Sabrina would have said. That means somehow, for reasons Carolina can’t even begin to guess at, her dad had a choice and he chose two years and Sabrina’s dad chose six months.

“We could ask your dad,” Sabrina suggests.

Carolina thinks she’s got her poker face on, at least until Sabrina looks at her, winces a little, and adds, “Or, uh, we can ask my dad. Let me call him. Just don't tell Zelda and Hilda. The out-of-area charges to the Other Realm are unbelievable.”

Carolina nods again.

Sabrina points at her phone beside her bed. Golden-red particles swirl around the phone and then dissipate. Then she picks it up and punches in a string of numbers. A very long string of numbers. Maybe there’s an extra area code for the Other Realm.

The phone rings, loud enough that Carolina suspects the magic was to raise the volume so that Carolina can listen in on the conversation.

When someone picks up, though, it’s a woman who says, “Hello! May I help you?”

Sabrina’s eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, hi. It’s Sabrina--”

The woman’s voice warms. “Oh, hello, Sabrina! Were you calling for Ted? You just missed him!”

For a second Sabrina just stares at the phone, incomprehension on her face. Then some realization twists her expression. She grimaces apologetically towards Carolina and then coughs. “Hi, Gail. Is he going to be back soon? I had a question for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Gail says. “You know the foreign legion. He could be back in five minutes or five days.” She laughs after she says it, but Sabrina doesn’t look amused.

“Right,” Sabrina says. She darts another glance towards Carolina and then adds, “Um, hey. Maybe you’ll know the answer to my question.”

“You know I’m always happy to help!”

“So. Half-witch teenagers can’t see their witch parent for the first six months after their sixteenth birthday, right? And can’t live with them again until after they get their license? It’s just that I, uh, heard two years for someone else, so I was confused.”

There’s a slight pause. When Gail speaks again, it’s with a forced cheer. “...Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk about sex? Facts of life? The inevitable heat death of the universe?”

“No,” Sabrina says.

Gail sighs. “Well, up until, oh, the seventeenth century, two years was the strict rule. There were no exceptions until the case of Sadie Endesha versus the Witches Council. Actually, you should read up on it, it’s fascinating! I had a poster of the plaintiff’s lawyer up in my room when I went to law school. She’s such an inspiration. The way she argued the case is historic. She avoided antagonizing the Council, made them amend a law, _and_ survived? Miranda Keyes--”

“Gail,” Sabrina interrupts. “The six months thing?”

“Oh, right,” Gail says, reluctance dripping off the words. “Well, like I said, the Council amended the law. Witch parents of half-mortal children now had two choices. Either they could move freely between both realms for two years and be unable to see their children during that time, or they could choose six months’ confinement in the spellbook. After that, they can visit their children without restriction for the remaining eighteen months.”

Confused disbelief makes Carolina almost dizzy. It doesn’t make sense. Why would her dad choose two years? Then she thinks about that year of radio silence and her throat gets tight. She thinks about the way she wouldn’t have known he was in Westbridge if Grif hadn’t called and her stomach starts to hurt. She thinks of how it was Grey and Kimball who suggested the weekly dinners and her eyes begin to burn.

Gail laughs uneasily and says, “I’m so glad Ted chose the six months! We would have never met. Though of course I just live in the spellbook for the rent control. That way I can afford to do a few more pro bono cases.”

“Uh huh,” Sabrina says. “Good, not at all awkward talk. Tell Dad I said hi. Gotta go!” She practically throws the phone away. Then she crosses her arms. Just as quickly she uncrosses them and drums her fingers against her knees. She frowns at the phone and then bites her lip. “Uh. You okay?”

“Why would--” The words come out thin and breathless. Carolina clamps her mouth shut. She drags in a breath. “Why did--”

Sabrina shrugs. She keeps drumming her fingers on her knees. “He probably had a reason. I mean, not that that’s an excuse or doesn’t stink, but--”

Carolina shakes her head. “Six months, and your dad visits all the--”

“Can.”

Carolina blinks. Some of the miserable anger is replaced by confusion again. “Sorry?”

“My dad _can_ visit whenever he wants,” Sabrina says. Her voice is flat. She doesn’t meet Carolina’s gaze as she shrugs. Her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “That doesn’t mean he _does_.”

A new rage goes hot in Carolina’s chest as Sabrina waves towards the floor and adds, her voice wobbling and her eyes just a little too bright, “Your dad’s right downstairs. I can’t even get mine on the phone. The first time he could see me after the six months were up, he brought his new girlfriend along. Yours sees you _every week_.”

Carolina can’t exactly suggest Sabrina punch her dad in the nose like the jerk apparently deserves. “I know a couple prank spells,” she says instead. “You should get his attention with them. There’s a hair dye one, or you could give him baby hands--”

“Baby hands?” Sabrina lets out a watery laugh. “I don’t want to know, do I?”

“The hair dye’s probably better.” Carolina tilts her head towards the spellbook, giving it a significant look. “I think I remember what page it was on--” She stops when Sabrina laughs again.

Sabrina wipes her eyes. “You’re a lot more interesting than I thought.”

Carolina can’t tell if that was a compliment or not. She takes a step towards the spellbook.

“No, I’m okay. Just the thought of turning my dad’s hair bubblegum pink is a pretty good pick-me-up.”

Carolina studies Sabrina’s face, and decides she means it. Her smile’s mostly reaching her eyes now. Carolina nods. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

They’re both quiet for a moment. In the silence Carolina thinks about her dad. The hurt is still a pit in her stomach, but distracting herself with Sabrina’s jerk dad has cleared her head a little. Now she remembers things like her birthday, the parent-teacher conference, his dinner visits that linger long after the food is gone, his set-up of this lunch to try and make her a friend.

She doesn’t understand her dad at all. But at least he’s here now.

Carolina blinks as Sabrina waves the chocolate cake under her nose.

“Want to eat our feelings?”

“Oh,” Carolina says. She stares down at the cake. It’s definitely chocolate. The sweet smell hits her nose, suggesting enough sugar packed inside it that her teeth start preemptively hurting. “You can have my slice. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

Sabrina’s face goes blank. From the way she looks at Carolina, she might as well have started speaking Swahili. “Huh?”

“I don’t really eat a lot of dessert,” Carolina elaborates.

Sabrina keeps staring.

The incomprehension in her face makes Carolina snort. The snort tickles her nose and makes her snicker. The snicker grows in her chest and banishes a little more of her anger and confusion as she bursts out laughing.

Sabrina squints. The corner of her mouth twitches, and she grins back. “So was that a joke? You really like dessert?”

Carolina just laughs harder.

* * *

“Why? _Why_? I could’ve saved Massachusetts too! And I would’ve known what to do with my fame! Whyyyyyyyyyy?”

Zelda’s mostly tuned out Salem’s continued sobs, but Leonard frowns. His eyes resumed their normal green shade once his daughter left the room, which is an interesting note for the loophole. Zelda idly wonders what the exact parameters are, if it’s only line of sight or proximity. Now they narrow.

“Saberhagen seems extremely, ah, distressed.”

Hilda snorts. “Yesterday he wailed for ten minutes because his favorite actor on some soap opera left the show. He’ll get over it.”

“I shall take your word for it,” Leonard says.

Hilda leans forward. “So,” she says, drawing out the word. “I heard it secondhand, but I hear you and Hilary had a little ex-lover’s quarrel after your presentation at the latest nerd-fest.”

“Subtle, Hilda,” Zelda says with a roll of her eyes. Not that she expected anything less from her sister.

She does expect Leonard to bristle or look annoyed at the intrusive question, but instead he raises an eyebrow and makes an elaborate show of studying his pocket watch. “Impressive. You lasted much longer than I anticipated before you asked about Doctor Huggins.”

“Well, I couldn’t ask with Carolina in the room,” Hilda says. “Sabrina told me not to make it weird.”

Leonard puts away his watch. He settles back in his seat. “For your edification, there was no quarrel. Doctor Huggins simply forgot about my preference for personal space. I...reminded her.”

Zelda’s half-forgotten about James, still sulking under the table, until he snorts and says, “Funny way of saying you used the keep away spell on her again. Seriously, if you don’t do hugs, you could shake her hand.”

Leonard sighs. “I presume Emily told you about the conference.”

James pokes his head over the table. Zelda would have thought he’d be offended on his mother’s behalf. Instead he looks almost amused. “Nah. H-- My mom told me. She sends monthly letters with my allowance. Had a _lot_ to say about your love of that spell.”

“Your allowance,” Leonard repeats, blinking.

James’ smile widens to what Salem would have called a shit-eating grin.

Leonard stares at him for a moment. Then he laughs. Not one of his polite chuckles Zelda has heard over the centuries at the academy conferences, but a genuine one, one that shakes his shoulders.

Hilda leans over to Zelda. “I don’t get it.”

James looks surprised, and then mock offended. “Anyone in my place would have done the same! In fact, it's my right! As an American!”

Leonard laughs again. “I don't believe you’re technically a citizen.”

James blinks. “What? No way, I totally am.”

“Your mortal birth certificate, if I recall correctly, says Alaska.”

“Which is in America.”

Leonard opens his mouth and pauses. He closes it.

James pauses too. “...I am at least eighty percent sure it is, anyway,” he mutters.

“I thought Alaska was in Canada,” Hilda says. She nudges Zelda. “Right?”

Zelda hesitates. Mortal geography has never been her strong suit either, as loath as she is to admit it in front of Leonard. Carolina or Sabrina would probably know, but she doesn’t want to call upstairs and ask. “It was called the District of Alaska when we visited during the Gold Rush. It might still be an American territory….”

James gets back in his chair, pointing at Zelda. “See? American territory totally counts!”

“Oh yeah,” Hilda says. “I remember. We went to see if we could find some gold, and I found Soapy Smith instead.” She grins that grin of hers she wears whenever she’s thinking of a particularly idiotic ex-boyfriend. “What a cad.”

“Didn’t you homeschool Carolina?” James asks Leonard, amused. “How do you not know this?”

Zelda is amused too, but also curious. She would’ve expected some resentment in James’s voice. After all, by all accounts, James grew up on Europa, isolated and with only Hilary and occasionally Doctor Muggins for company, while Carolina lived with Leonard and her mother and traveled all over Earth. Wouldn’t there be some resentment or jealousy? But James just grins.

Leonard raises an eyebrow. “I cannot be expected to remember countries when they are liable to change their borders every fifty years.”

“God, you’re so old,” James says, rolling his eyes.

“I--” Leonard stops with a faint wince as white film covers his eyes. It’s fascinating and slightly unnerving to watch. He turns a little in his chair as Carolina and Sabrina come back into the kitchen.

“Is Mr. Saberhagen okay?” Carolina asks.

Hilda waves a hand. “Eh, he’ll get over it.”

“ _I just wanted to show the world my iron-fisted benevolence! Is that so much to ask?”_

“...Eventually,” Zelda says.

Carolina smiles wanly when Sabrina says, “Don’t worry. Last week he cried when Hilda and Zelda decided he needed a break from Witch Gossip Weekly. He’ll be fine.”

James squints at his half-sister. Zelda fails to get a read on his expression. He stands up. “Thanks for the food, but we should get going. Homework, spellwork, all that crap. We’ll see you at school.” The last part is directed at Sabrina.

Leonard frowns but doesn’t disagree. He rises to his feet and takes a slow, cautious step away from the table. “Thank you for your hospitality.” _And the relative lack of intrusiveness_ , a quirk of his mouth silently adds.

“Carolina and James are always welcome!” Hilda says cheerfully.

Leonard points a finger. There’s a spark of blue. “Emily will be here shortly.”

Church snorts. “You could’ve just called.”

Carolina, Zelda realizes, is giving James a long look of her own, her expression unreadable. When she says, “I’ll go wake up Grif,” she sounds distracted. Zelda’s curiosity pricks her as they head to the living room.

Unfortunately for the Church family, Dexter Grif is dead to the world. Even when Carolina tentatively prods at his shoulder, the familiar just snores, his nose twitching.

Zelda takes the opportunity to study Dexter. Familiars tend to be relatively unimposing, but it’s still difficult to imagine that this is the same witch who stopped Felix and Locus from destroying Massachusetts.

“Grif,” Carolina says, bent a little so she’s speaking directly into his ear. “Wake up.”

Salem breaks off his sobbing to say peevishly, “Don’t bother. I wasted my good stash on him.”

“Let’s just grab him and go,” James says. He tries to pick up Dexter and staggers backwards as the familiar flops in his arms. “Crap, how is he so heavy--” His face flushes and he takes another off-balance step.

“Don’t drop him,” Carolina says, grabbing Dexter from her half-brother’s arms. She holds Dexter awkwardly, but at least she’s got a steadier grip. The familiar continues to snore as she shoots James a slightly amused look. “Wow, Church, I knew you had no upper body strength, but you _really_ \--”

“Ha, hilarious. Look, you’re the jock here, not me. Consider this part of your workout or something.”

“You know that makes you the nerd sibling, right?” Carolina says. Some of the wanness lifts from her expression as she teases him.

James makes a face. “No, it makes me the cool one.”

Sabrina laughs. When James looks at her, she blinks. “Oh, wait, you were serious?” She laughs again, a little harder.

James scowls and heads towards the front door.

Carolina flashes Sabrina a quick smile. “See you at school.”

“Yeah,” Sabrina says, smiling back. “Good luck with next week’s track meet.”

“Thanks.”

Hilda lays a hand on Leonard’s shoulder, ignoring the faint twitch of surprise, and says, “Let me get you to the door. Boy, that loophole sure has some drawbacks. How many times have you tripped over something?”

Leonard ignores the question other than to try to pull away with a stiff, “Excuse me.”

Hilda rolls her eyes. “Thought your family secret was about hugs, not physical contact in general.”

“Aunt Hilda,” Sabrina says.

Hilda shrugs. “What?”

There’s a series of loud honking from outside, like someone is jabbing at their horn. James looks amused. “That’s Grey. You guys really haven’t spoken in two hundred years?” he asks Zelda.

“One hundred and ninety-two,” Zelda corrects. Her mood darkens. “If she’d admit her theory was flawed--”

There’s another series of honking.

“You two can discuss it another time,” Leonard says dryly.

Hilda closes the door behind them and blows out a breath. “Well, Zelda? What’s the verdict?”

“He’s hiding _something_ ,” Zelda says. She grinds her teeth, frustrated. How has she ended up with more questions? But everyone’s interactions had been slightly off. “I just don’t know what.”

Hilda nods. “Yeah, something’s up there. I mean, they’re definitely both his kids.... Maybe the years are different on Europa? You’re smart, Zelda, do the math. Maybe he knocked Hilary up before he was married and the moon math is--”

Zelda shakes her head. “No no no. Clearly it's just an unfortunate resemblance. Perhaps Leonard is covering for Hilary’s...indiscretion?” Even as she suggests it, she mostly dismisses it. If Hilary has been hiding a child out of wedlock, Zelda can't imagine Leonard being her first or second or fifth choice as a fake father.

Hilda laughs. “Yeah, right. Look me in the eyeballs and tell me Jamie boy wasn't Leonard's son. Zelda.” She puts her hands on either side of Zelda’s face and forces her to meet her eyes. “Zelda, look at me. You know that’s Leonard’s kid.”

Zelda sighs. She pushes her sister’s hands aside. “Well, it is hard to deny those green eyes.” She pauses. A new theory forms in her mind. She hums thoughtfully to herself. “...Maybe they had a hook up because of a spell gone wrong?”

She and Hilda stare at each other as Sabrina wrinkles her nose and says, “Can that happen?”

“People do insist on attempting to conquer love potions,” Zelda says absently.

Hilda tilts her head to the side. “Honestly that makes the most sense.”

“Does it?” Sabrina says, giving them both a weird look. “Plenty of people have affairs.”

Zelda shakes her head. “Trust me, I’ve been to enough conferences to know both Hilary and Leonard. An affair would simply never happen. He’d never take the Keep Away spell down long enough to let it.”

“Wouldn’t need to be down _that_ long,” Salem sing-songs. Apparently he’s recovered some of his humor, because he snickers.

Sabrina groans. “Gross.”

“No, honestly, a botched spell makes the most sense.”

Hilda grins at Sabrina. “So, what do you think of the kids?”

Sabrina hesitates. “Carolina’s very...thoughtful.”

“Really?” Salem says. “I was going to say stuck up.”

“ _Salem_!”

“She's kind of judgy about magic,” Sabrina allows with a shrug. “But I don't know. She's not too bad.” She’s quiet for a moment, and Zelda gets a flicker of some emotion across her face. Then Sabrina grins. “Her brother’s a total weirdo though.”

Hilda shakes her head. “Can you blame him? The kid had Hilary for a mother-- ow, Zelda!” Hilda rubs at her arm. “And living on Europa probably doesn’t help….”

“Oh,” Sabrina says, looking curious. “Is not liking dessert a Church family quirk?”

Hilda and Zelda look at each other and laugh. “No,” Hilda says. “Not from the way James ate that cake. I’m pretty sure he ate Salem’s helping too.”

Salem gasps, looking up from where he’s been licking at his paw. “He ate my cake? The fiend!”

“You were a little busy getting the Dexter Grif high on catnip,” Zelda reminds him. “Honestly, Salem, what were you thinking?”

“...That he’d agree to help me take over the world,” Salem mumbles. His ears flick back and forth. “Also? Dude is hiding something.”

Zelda waits, but Salem doesn’t elaborate.

“Well?” Hilda says. “What’s he hiding?”

“What who's hiding?” Salem says. He blinks. "Oh, uh, he. He. The story--"

“Oh, for the love of Merlin,” Hilda says. She taps Salem on the nose, making him sneeze. “Go sleep it off!”

* * *

When the doorbell rings, Simmons drops a half-graded paper onto the couch. He almost knocks over his coffee in his rush for the door.

There are a dozen questions on the tip of his tongue as he opens the door. He doesn’t ask any of them. Instead he stares at a sleeping Grif in Carolina’s arms and says, “Uh, hi.”

Carolina gives him a quick smile. “Hi, Mr. Simmons--” She stops as Grif wakes up.

He immediately starts squirming in Carolina’s grip. She makes a hurried, awkward gesture, like she’s half-throwing him, half-lowering him to the ground. He lands heavily, but doesn’t seem to mind, blinking up at Simmons. His ears and his tail go up.

“Hi, Simmons! Simmons! Simmons! Hey! Simmons, I met another familiar. He was a total weirdo. You probably would’ve hated him. He tried to take over the world!”

Simmons takes a step back and Grif immediately dives forward, twining himself around Simmons’ legs, still rambling about the other familiar. Simmons can’t decide whether to be amused or not. “Who gave him catnip?”

Doctor Church clears his throat. “The other familiar, Salem Saberhagen, did. I believe it was an attempt to ingratiate himself.”

Grif laughs. “He thought I’d help him take over the world. Dude was barking up the wrong tree. No, wait, meowing up the wrong tree. No, wait, that’s dumb. He was dumb. Had good taste in pizza though.”

“I’ll, uh, see you all tomorrow?” Simmons says, and then has to brace himself as Grif headbutts his knee. “I’d invite you in, but--” He stops as Grif leans against him and asks, “Can we get pizza?”

“Yeah,” Church says, smirking a little.

Grif flops across Simmons’ lap as soon as he sits down, a warm, talkative weight.

The last time Grif had had catnip, Simmons had been tipsy himself. He can’t remember if Grif talked this much last time. He scratches Grif under the chin and says, “Sorry that the other familiar was dumb.”

Grif leans into the touch, grumbling, “Yeah. I thought it was gonna be cool to meet another familiar but it kind of sucked. He kept saying stuff like I was famous.”

“Famous?” Simmons repeats. He stares down at Grif, but Grif’s got his eyes shut.

“The whole Locus and Felix thing. Everyone’s got the wrong idea, like I saved the day and threw Felix into that volcano with my stupid paws. Like I was a hero.” Grif snorts as he says it.

“Well, you did talk Locus down.... And he, uh, did kill Felix. So yeah, they might not know the whole story, but they’re not completely wrong--”

“Simmons,” Grif says, the groan and the irritated twitch of his ears at odds with the way he’s purring. “Don't make it weird.”

“I’m not making it weird.” Simmons doesn’t like remembering that night. It’s mostly an adrenaline-fueled nightmare, watching the spells fly around, watching Felix hurt Grif and the kids. But he definitely knows that Grif convincing Locus to stop Felix saved the day. Honestly, if the Council wasn’t run by a bunch of tyrannical morons, they would’ve already commuted Grif’s sentence.

“You are a hero,” he says firmly.

Grif goes motionless under his hands. “No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, you--” Simmons realizes they’re going to talk themselves in circles. “You convinced Locus to stop Felix. Ask him, if you don’t believe me.”

“Whatever,” Grif mumbles. Then his ears twitch again. His voice is a little too cheerful, but Simmons doesn’t call him out on the obvious topic change as Grif asks, “Does that mean I can invite him over? We could have pizza.”

“Uh….. No.”

“Scaredy-cat,” Grif mutters. “Oh, hey, I told Salem a joke. It was funny. We were talking pizza, and I said mice familiars would like three-cheese pizzas. No wait, that wasn’t it. Uh. Okay. I forgot it. But it was something about cheese. And familiars. It was funny.”

Grif keeps rambling, and Simmons lets him.

Eventually Grif leans up into Simmons’ hand and says, “So, pizza? I could--” He interrupts himself with a yawn. “--eat some--” Another, even longer yawn interrupts him again. “--pizza….” He’s asleep almost before the last word is out of his mouth.

A familiar snuffling snore meets Simmons’ ears.

When he’s sure Grif is completely asleep, he says quietly, “You _are_ a hero, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Instead of a fun trivia fact, we have part of a scene that didn’t make it into the final draft of the episode! Please enjoy Salem being ridiculous. 
> 
> SALEM: So! Whose pigtails did you manage to pull?
> 
> LEONARD STARES. HIS EXPRESSION IS ONE OF SLIGHT CONFUSION.
> 
> LEONARD: I'm... What?
> 
> SALEM: Come oooon, you're the talk of the town like every other month! That's gotta mean someone's out to drag your name through the mud. Give me the deets. I'm so bored! Hilda and Zelda won’t let me buy Witch Gossip Weekly anymore! 
> 
> SALEM GIVES HILDA AND ZELDA AN ACCUSING LOOK.
> 
> SALEM: They’re terrible and want me to suffer. Hey, you have friends in high places, right? I’d like to file a complaint--
> 
> ZELDA INTERRUPTS. SHE LOOKS EXASPERATED.
> 
> ZELDA: Salem, it is not animal or familiar abuse just because you want the magazine. 
> 
> HILDA: Yeah, though we came close when we saw our last bill. He ran up our credit cards buying phony hair care products.
> 
> SALEM: What, did you think fur this luscious just happened?
> 
> SABRINA: And calling phony psychics! 
> 
> HILDA: People can't see into the future, Salem! Everyone knows this!
> 
> SALEM: Someday there will be a real psychic. You just have to believe.
> 
> SABRINA: No, you just have a crush on the fake psychic. Oooh, Mystic Maureen, tell me my future.
> 
> SALEM: I'm a cat, I'm not dead! A man has needs!
> 
> SABRINA: Like this? 
> 
> SHE SCRATCHES HIM BEHIND THE EARS.


End file.
